Love You To Death
by Nunda
Summary: Pleasure spiked with pain. There's nothing like it. Dark Dasey.


**Love You To Death**

by Nunda

**/A.N./ **First of all, I was inspired by two things when writing this one-shot. One-- jannikajade's oneshot, "Selfish Man", got me excited about Dark Daseys again. Two-- Robert Browning's poem "Porphyria's Lover".

**Disclaimer: **_Life With Derek_ belongs to Family Channel and not to me.

**Warning: **Please note the **M Rating**. This is a very dark Dasey and involves the death of a main character. It also contains sex and swearing. Please, do not read this is will offend you in anyway. For those with a morbid curiousity, like me, continue on...

**I.**

_That moment she was mine, mine, fair,  
__Perfectly pure and good: I found  
__A thing to do, and all her hair  
__In one long yellow string I wound  
__Three times her little throat around,  
__And strangled her. No pain felt she;  
_-Excerpt from Robert Browning's "Porphyria's Lover"

She laid beside me soundlessly sleeping in a moment of eternal bliss. It was the moment I knew--I just _knew_--she was my soulmate. She was, as they say, my better half. Everything good about her counteracted everything bad about me and made me into a better person.

I used my thumb to trace her cheek, nose, and eyes-- underneath those lids were the bluest eyes I'd ever seen. Highlighted by the moon, her skin was flawless. Her smooth shoulders were just crying out for me to smother them with kisses. Her neck, as well, was just as tempting.

Still on a high from just being with her for the first time, I rolled over on my side and relived the events that led up to what the night had become.

She was perfect, even when--no _especially_ when-- she was mad. And she was mad at me often. But this night was different. This night I could see it in her eyes-- she wanted me just as much as I wanted her.

**II.**

We were sitting around the dinner table, the big happy family that we were, having dinner when it started.

"Derek," She said in a sticky sweet voice. I knew then that something was coming up. "How did you do on that make-up test for English?"

_Bitch. _Her eyebrows were raised in mock-concern. She knew good and well that I failed that English test-- my last shot at staying on the hockey team this season. Dad and Nora were leaned in, waiting on my reply.

"Derek?" Dad looked at me questioningly.

"Casey went out with Tim Johnson last night instead of Emily." I said, quickly diverting attention off of me.

Casey's jaw dropped. _That's right, sister dear, I have my sources too._

"Casey?" Nora asked, with all eyes on her now.

"I heard he got to second base with her." I remarked.

"Casey plays baseball?" Marti, asked innocently but no one made a move to answer her.

Casey's face flushed a deep red and tears of embarassment stung at her eyes. Of course, I heard that Tim only got to first base with her before she pushed him off of her. But where's the fun in that?

"I--" Casey stood up. "I'm going to my room."

Nora followed her daughter upstairs. Then Dad's eyes cut to me.

"Don't think you got out of telling me about your English test with that immature stunt, Derek." He said.

I turned my eyes down to my plate.

"I failed." I mumbled.

"What?" Dad said. "I couldn't hear you."

I knew perfectly well that he had heard. He just wanted to rub it in a little more and embarass me like I embarassed Casey.

"I failed the damn test." I said louder and more plain.

"Derek said damn." Marti giggled.

Lizzie was shaking her head at me in disappointment.

"Marti, don't repeat _anything_ that Derek says." Dad said. "Derek, go to your room. I've got a call to your coach to make."

I slammed my hands down on the table.

"That's not fair, Dad." I yelled. "I can't help it that I'm not good in English. But I _am_ good at hockey."

"Derek, you knew the consequences when Mrs. Richards graciously allowed you to retake the test."

_Graciously, my ass. The old bat only let me retake the test after three days of me groveling at her feet. And I hate groveling._

I got up and slung my chair across the dining room and watched as Lizzie, Edwin, and Marti jumped when it crashed into the wall. I stomped up to my room and slammed my door. I let my anger be known by turning my stereo up on high volume. I found a copy of Limp Bizkit's "Break Stuff" that came from my brief Limp Bizkit phase, and put it in. _There, that'll show 'em._

Of course, it didn't take prudish Casey long before she was hitting my wall, yelling something about innocent ears in the house. _Whatever. _Of course, that didn't surprise me. What really surprised me was Dad barging into my room.

"I'll break something." He said. Before I could do anything to stop him, he ejected the CD and broke it in half.

"Thanks, Dad." I said sarcastically, trying to keep my cool. "I always wanted two Limp Bizkit CDs."

"I was just so inspired by their song that I heard _all the way downstairs._" He said, matching my sarcasm. Then, as he was about to leave my room, he turned and said, "Coach Allen said for you to come clean your locker out after school tomorrow. He has to make room for your replacement."

I flinched and waited for him to shut the door before I punched the wall.

It was later that night, after everyone else had gone to bed, when she came to my room. Her eyes were red-rimmed and I was tempted to feel sorry for her.

I was sitting at my computer, downloading "Break Stuff" from iTunes when she marched right in and sat on my bed. I was about to tell her to leave when I looked up and noticed that look in her eyes. Sure, she was mad as hell at me, but there was also something else. That same look that's in every other girl's eyes when I bring them to the Derek Venturi's bedroom. But she was different-- _forbidden._

"You got me grounded." She said. She was wearing a white tank top with no bra. I could see her nipples poking out from the white cloth. Her dark hair was damp from a recent shower, and hung over her shoulders. She was wearing short pajama shorts and every inch of her long, lean legs, were taunting me.

"You got me kicked off the hockey team." I replied after gazing over her body.

"You're the one who failed the English test." She said.

"And you're the one who lied about going out with Emily when you really went out with Tim Johnson." I answered back.

"Maybe I wanted to get to know him before I introduced him to this freak show of a family." She said. Her eyes were laughing at me. She knew what she was doing. Teasing me like that. Knowing that I wanted her and parading in my room dressed like that. And it was killing me because she was the one girl I couldn't have.

"Trust me on this, Case," I said. "Tim only wants one thing. And when he gets it, he is out of the picture."

I was trying to push her buttons and make her mad and it was working.

"I guess I'll have to find someone else, then." She said. As she said this, she uncrossed her legs, and I saw a flash of pink flesh. She quickly crossed them back when she saw where my eyes went and grinned at me. _Damn her._

I sighed, "Do you have a point to make, Casey, or are you in here just wasting my time?"

"I just wanted you to know that I am really mad at you." She stood up. "And...I. Really. Hate. You."

I grabbed her by the elbows and pushed her back down on my bed.

"You don't hate me." I whispered in her ear. "You _want _me."

The shiver that went through her body was ultimate satisfaction. That was my golden ticket to keep going.

"Der-" I swallowed the rest of her words with a kiss. Then I waited for it. The punch in the arm for being such a pervert,_ Derek_. Instead she looked up at me with almost a hurt expression, "Why'd you stop?" She asked.

"I'm not stopping." I said. "I _won't_ stop."

I shoved her into my headboard and climbed on top of her. I raked my fingers through her still damp hair and when I reached the ends of the tendrils I wrapped them around my hands and began kissing on her neck, pushing my body into hers.

"Ow." She said. She began to squirm uncomfortably beneath me. "That hurts."

I pulled on her hair a little harder, "Pleasure spiked with pain. There's nothing like it." I mumbled.

She grabbed ahold of me and flipped me over so that now she was on top.

"I hate you." She said as she bit my earlobe. "I _fucking _hate you."

"I see you're catching on," I said then I flipped her back down on the mattress, "But I always stay in control."

We played our sadistic games-- me inflicting pleasurable pain on her and her normally pure and virgin lips pouring out foul and dirty language-- for a while longer before I had to make her mine. She was warm and wet and I could feel myself throbbing against her as I entered her. I knew it was her first time and I took no pity, just like her nails took no pity on my back.

"You _fucking asshole._" She whispered right as I had reached my climax. I grabbed ahold of her throat and finished grinding into her until I had gone completely over the edge.

I got up immediately to get a cigarette. I didn't smoke often and now was a good time as any. There was a pack hidden in my bottom drawer and as I reached down to grab it I said to her, "I'm not always like that."

I just wanted her to know I'm not evil. The guilt of what I'd done and said to her was starting to set in. Her first time should've been sweet, and magical with candles and roses not frantic and borderlining on the S and M side. But we had plenty of time to make up for it. Any girl that made me feel guilty after great sex when it got a little rough had to be special, right? Most of the others--which weren't that many, despite my reputation--would've said 'Thanks for the fuck' and be on their merry little way. But not her. Not Casey.

I turned to her and noticed she had fallen asleep. I lit the cigarette and drew in a long drag before opening my bedroom window. A cold breeze blew in from the window and I quickly moved to cover her half-naked body with a blanket. Finishing the cigarette, I snubbed it out on the windowsil and threw the butt in the garbage.

Even though I'd have to wake Casey soon to get dressed and back in her own bed, I crawled into bed and threw my arm around her. Something was different. Something was wrong. Very wrong. She was not breathing.

"Casey." I shook her shoulders. Her hair slid back and I could see purple handprints--_my_ handprints-- across her throat.

**III.**

They said when they found us, I was sleeping next to her as if nothing had happened. Much of that night was a blur. The last thing I remember was stroking her face thinking to myself that I had found my soulmate.

"Venturi, Derek." I heard a voice call my name and I looked up.

I followed the shrink down the long hallway to his office.

"Let's talk about Casey." He said as soon as I had sat down.

I shook my head. It was our same old routine.

"We've gone over this," He said. "They're not going to let you out of the group home until I say you are mentally stable. I can't do that until you are able to talk about that night and what happened."

I shook my head again. He scribbled some things down in the manilla folder and then snapped it shut.

"Well then." He said. "I guess I'll be seeing you next week, Venturi."

The long drive back to my group home gave me time to think about her as I watched the scenery pass by from the back seat. I thought about what we could be doing right now and the different ways I could've been making it up to her now. Keeping her memory alive--if only in my head-- kept me alive. But being here without her, hurt.

_Pleasure spiked with pain. There's nothing like it._

**So, review please? Tell me what you thought.**


End file.
